


bow before my might or beg for my mercy

by RogueArcher



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood, Death, Gen, Sister-Sister Relationship, Torture, check story notes for full tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 02:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueArcher/pseuds/RogueArcher
Summary: Time and time again, Nebula would be beaten to the ground, drowned in her own blood, her limbs and organs extracted and replaced by cold metal. She was weak, always second best, reduced to the shadows of her sister and the disdain of their Father.But then there were times. Times when she prevailed; where she stood a victor, her victims crushed underfoot. When the cries and screams and pleads of mercy of her victims made her ears bleed, shrieks heard across the cosmos. Times when she was the only one remaining on the battlefield.





	bow before my might or beg for my mercy

**Author's Note:**

> please be aware this fic gets dark and be sure to heed my warnings. if you don’t believe you can handle the material i’ve listed below, click away. take care of yourselves.
> 
> in other news, this has been unbeta’d and unedited because i’m tired. it got so out of hand, i can’t tell you how little thought i put into this. plot? never heard of her. this is a character analysis of sorts, i guess? i apologize for the oocness of it all but oh well. it’s been three days. i’m finally finished. i’m impatient. let’s do this.
> 
> warnings:  
> depictions of torture  
> depictions of death  
> implied/referenced child death  
> mentions of blood  
> brief implication of suicide  
> if there’s anything you believe i’ve failed to list, let me know asap

Hard panting echoed in the empty chamber. Nebula’s hot breath bounced off of the cold, marble flooring, hitting her back in the face. Her entire body ached, arms digging into the ground, her palms and knees stinging.

 

_ “Get up,” _ a voice above her hissed. A metal toed boot kicked her in her side before coming to a stop in front of her face. The Luphomoid slowly lifted her head, meeting the dark brown eyes of her sister. Gamora’s expression was schooled into one of disinterest, eyes narrowed as they roamed across Nebula’s beaten and bloodied figure. Her mouth was in the shape of a thin line, immobile as the younger girl struggled to stand.

 

Nebula’s breathing grew more labored as she planted her palms onto the floor, limbs shaking as she moved to stand. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from crying out, body groaning in protest at her movements.  _ Stop. Please,  _ it screeched at her, arms barely having enough strength to pull her onto her knees. She dragged her feet behind her, hardly feeling them anymore. Her blood, she felt lightheaded just feeling the sticky liquid against her skin; a drastic improvement from spilling her guts at the sight after her  _ first _ fight with Gamora, dripped down her arms, pooling under her palms.

 

She finally managed to stagger to her feet, knees shaking and threatening to give out from under her. Her arms slacked, useless, at her sides. Nebula staggered forward, her hunched self a pitiful sight next to Gamora’s straightened figure. Her sister didn’t bother sparing her a look as  _ he  _ moved out of the shadows from where he’d been observing quietly. Thanos moved eerily silently for a being of his stature and size. His gaze was piercing; Nebula’s body shook as he stopped in front of the two.

 

The only signs Gamora had been involved in a fight were the thin strands which had fallen out of her tight pink braids and the fine sheen of sweat which covered her vibrant green skin. There were no marks, no bruising, no scars or blood maring her skin. The Mad Titan gazed down at her with a look of pride, what could almost be considered a smile passing over his features. 

 

“Daughter,” his low voice bounced off the walls. “You fought well. You are well on your way towards greatness.”

 

Gamora bowed her head, blank expression concealed from the strands of hair falling across the sides of her face. “Thank you, Father.” Her voice was steady. Empty. This hadn’t posed a challenge for her. This wasn’t anything new. Day after day, fight after fight, Nebula and Gamora were always pit against one another and day after day, fight after fight, Nebula always lost. No matter how hard or long she trained. No matter how much she looked for weaknesses to exploit. No matter how hard she  _ tried _ , she always lost. Gamora was always the victor, rising in Thanos’ favor and leaving her sister behind to deal with the consequences.

 

The first night, she had cried. Her quiet sobs bounced across the room like a drop of water dripping in a jagged cave. Gamora had broken her wrist, their fight barely lasting past three minutes. Thanos had praised Gamora, and when he was done, fixed Nebula with a look of disappointment.

 

_ “Do not fret, daughter,”  _ he’d placed a hand on the young girl’s shoulder, who was sprawled out on the ground, wrist carefully cupped against her chest. Nebula sniffled, fat tears rolling down her face and dribbling off her chin. _ “I will fix you. Next time, you will fight as equals.” _

 

Nebula’s own screams had echoed in her ears that night, and the nights following, as her wrist was cut clean off, a new cybernetic hand and wrist replacing her broken one. Gamora had crept over, hidden in the dark of night. Her footsteps were drowned out by deep breathing and wet, choked cries, and she curled up with her, murmuring apologies, cradling Nebula in her arms before swiftly retreating to her own bed before the sun peered out, revealing their weakness to the rest of their siblings.

 

Days, weeks, had passed like that. Thanos instructed the two to fight with one another, and match after match, Gamora would win, never relenting as Nebula’s bones cracked under her hand and skin was cut up from the wickedly sharp blade of her sword. Thanos praised his  _ favorite _ daughter, before turning stony eyes on Nebula and dragging her to be  _ fixed. _ Her agonized screams would fill the halls for years as her limbs were severed, eye was plucked, organs  _ stirred _ until one day, years later, she looked in the untouched water of a riverbed on Quhen, bile rising in her closed throat as she glared at the machine that glared back through the water. Patches of purple and metal glinted, covering up the natural blue of her people.

 

She was never good enough. She never grew to be precious Gamora’s equal. Eventually the nightly comforts her older sister would bestow upon her tampered away, the girl who would cuddle with her well into the cold nights for warmth and amuse her with silly jokes, enthrall her with the tales of her homeworld, such as the glistening stars that had hung over Gamora’s planet, and wipe away her tears from her latest  _ surgery  _ was replaced by the cold assassin-to-be who beat Nebula to a pulp, never relenting. Never unwavering. Never letting up even the  _ slightest.  _ She’d simply listen to her screams and muffle her cries and stand over her, face impassive as Nebula would screech and cry out, desperate to avoid the torture that would come.

 

“Nebula,” The Titan turned to his creation. His expression and tone was one of dissatisfaction. His calculating gaze sweeping over her, already thinking up all the ways to fix her. To make her strong. An  _ equal  _ to her unbeatable opponent _.  _ All Nebula could see was the promise of more pain to come. She jerked backwards, chest heaving as two strong grips clasped onto her upper arms, ready to drag her away. She tried to pull away, moves ferocious and desperate, screaming out for her sister, pleading for another chance.  _ She could do it! She could do it! She could— _

 

* * *

 

Time and time again, Nebula would be beaten to the ground, drowned in her own blood, her limbs and organs extracted and replaced by cold metal. She was weak, always second best, reduced to the shadows of her sister and the disdain of their Father.

 

But then there were times. Times when she prevailed; where she stood a victor, her victims crushed underfoot. When the cries and screams and  _ pleads of mercy _ of her victims made her ears bleed, shrieks heard across the cosmos. Times when she was the only one remaining on the battlefield.

 

Gamora always admonished her for her “senseless” need of dragging out her victims’ punishments. Always scolding her for not finishing them off immediately. The prodigy child always called her sadistic and reckless. She would list off Nebula’s weaknesses, chin raised and a smug look in her eyes.  _ She  _ knew what she was talking about.  _ She _ had never failed Thanos, not once. Never answered to failure. But Nebula? Nebula was an example to their siblings. The younglings curled up on their assigned beds, eyes wide with fear and chests palpitating as the Mad Titan stood over them, bathed in the blood of their families. The children who would do anything to not be the ones on the other side of the scalpel, screams racking through the night.

 

But out on the battlefield, leading her army into battles,  _ Nebula thrived.  _ She was not the example. The experiment. The weakling. The daughter who constantly needed to be improved, no.

 

_ She _ was the one  _ inflicting _ the pain. She was the one in charge, the strong one, the one who overpowered those surrounding her. Men and women fell at her feet. She’d return to Thanos, to Ronan the Accuser,  _ victorious _ . Splatters of blood dried on her cybernetic parts and clothing, spoils of war spilling out of her grip.

 

A cruel smile stretched from ear to ear, eyes shining from her glory, chin raised as she bestowed the marks of her victory at the feet of her Father.

 

* * *

 

There was a time, on the planet of Zeema, where Ronan sent her to kill the — at the time — current royal family. The King and Queen and their  _ darling  _ little Princess. It was her first mission on her own. Her first opportunity to branch out and prove herself, outside of Gamora’s overcasting shadow.

 

Zeeminians were the color of ash, with tendrils of pin straight black hair that cascaded down their backs. The species were skeletal, hardly any meat on their bones, with prominent cheekbones and eyes that sunk in their skull, entirely pitch black.

 

The Princess, Xora, had large eyes which overflowed with fat, salty tears. She’d whimpered, fearfully peering out at the cybercinetic assassin past her mother’s form.

 

Makkan, the proud,  _ foolish _ king, had sneered at her.  _ “You won’t dare touch my family,”  _ he’d hissed out in his mother tongue. 

 

Nebula tilted her head, simply watching as he grew more frustrated, more fearful, biting out insults and threats. She watched the panic creep into his eyes, hands shaking as he held an arm out in front of his wife.  _ “My-my people. They  _ need _ me.”  _ He was desperate for survival, eyes darting around frantically for anyone to save them.

 

_ “They need a king who takes their food to fill his stomach, their women to warm his bed, their children for his army?”  _ Nebula growled out, electric batons buzzing as she slowly stepped forward, relishing in their haste to back away, the queen nearly tripping over her robes.  _ “No. I don’t believe they do.” _

 

She lashed out, movements a blur as she stabbed the baton into the King’s eye. Makkan let out a bellowing yell, dropping to his knees in pain, straining to scramble away from the weapon and the madwoman which held it against his face. The scent of burning flesh rose, podent and strong, in the air. The Queen gagged, turning her back as the love of her life’s body jerked. Nebula pressed down harder, jaw tight as she watched him wither around.

 

She made the mistake of looking up.

 

Her eyes locked onto the Princess’s, peering out from behind her mother’s trembling form. Her eyes were wide, a mixture of fear and horror reflected off of them. If not for Nebula’s enhanced hearing, she would not have heard the soft whimpers erupting from the girl’s throat beneath her father’s yells. The look on her face was one Nebula was  _ very _ familiar with. The desperation for everything to stop. Even the silent plea’s on her lips, readable despite her awful lip syncing. ‘ _ Please stop.’ _

 

She was a young girl. Only eight or nine in Zeeminian years and already broken. Her people’s cries and screams could be heard faintly outdoors. Her father’s screams and jerky movements overriding her senses. Her mother squeezing her, incapable to look upon the horrors that were thrust at them so suddenly, catching them off guard just hours ago.

 

It was that look that had Nebula lifting the baton from the King’s mangled and burned face and stabbing a long dagger into his chest. Alcyone let out a strangled cry as her husband finally fell silent. Her sobs racked her body as she slowly twisted around, stumbling two steps forward before falling to her knees next to her husband’s body. Her arms hovered uselessly above his face, frame shaking as she looked up to Nebula, snot and tears running down her face. Her nose, her cheeks, were dusted a faint black and her voice was hoarse as she whispered plea’s, shaking her head.

 

The blade slipped out of Makkan’s chest with a slippery sound. Moments later, the queen’s lifeless body collapsed on her side, empty eyes locked on her husband’s unrecognizable face.

 

Xora looked silently at her parents, body shaking and her fists right by her side. She met Nebula’s eyes again, a look of resignation passing over her face. But it couldn’t hide the fear and pain that clung to her.

 

Nebula jerked her head, towards the window overlooking the dark forest behind them.  _ “Go.” _

 

The Princess looked back slowly, before warily taking another look at Nebula. 

 

The assassin growled.  _ “Go. Now!” _

 

It only took four days for the Princess to collapse on the forest floor, eyes shutting and her chest stilling. Nebula watched with a tight chest from the tree she was crouched down in. She’d tailed the little girl after she ran out of the room. She was instructed to kill the entirety of the royal family, but looking into Xora’s eyes as she watched her only family slaughtered in front of her, listened to her people crying out for her…

 

Gamora would have done it. Her sword sinking into each of their chests, one by one, her task done in minutes. Her grief and guilt over taking their lives buried under years of honed apathy and compartmentalizing. She was strong. Nebula was weak.

 

It felt sickening, after leaving the girl an orphan, to drop down and construct a bed of leaves to lay her down upon. Her throat and chest felt constricted, eyes burning as she cradled the child on her lap, shutting Xora’s sightless eyes. Time slipped away, she had no idea how long she’d sat there, shoulders shaking.

 

Silent tears rolled down her face on the flight back to Thanos. With a hollow voice, she declared the mission a success.He informed her Gamora had taken out three planets in the five days it took her to return. Then he took a look at the drying tear tracks on her face.

 

That was the night she lost her eye. The next morning Gamora had arrived for their match with a new sword.  _ Godslayer _ .

 

* * *

 

Years of turmoil. Of pain and slowly building hatred, towards Thanos, the one she called her sister, the world.

 

Why was it, that despite the years she’d spent in agony, the years alone, unwanted, it was Gamora who got the rag-tag, dysfunctional idiots she’d happily claimed as  _ hers. Her  _ family.

 

Gamora, always the best. Gamora, who did  _ nothing  _ to end or ease her torment. Gamora, who was the cause of her becoming more cyborg than Luphomoid. The one who whispered to her as she soothed her tears,  _ “I will always protect you,”  _ when they were children before backing up on her word the very next morning. The one who, despite  _ everything,  _ Nebula still couldn’t help but see as her sister. She snarled at her sentimentality. Gamora could  _ have  _ her happy ending. Nebula will get her own, once she killed Thanos. Once he succumbed to the pain he put her through  _ every day of her life _ , then she will get the justice and happiness she so craved.

 

She didn’t need a merry band of sentimental idiots. She didn’t need anyone, much less her sister.

 

But the universe always had to prove her wrong, shoving her towards her sister time and time again. It was Gamora who pleaded for her to help stop Ronan. It was Gamora who collected her from the Sovereign with a dirty look and frigid words. Gamora, who apologized for not stopping her torment when they were fearful children. Gamora, who held out an olive branch, offering her a spot in her family.

 

Gamora, who finally saved her by sacrificing an infinity stone and their very universe.

  
  
  


Her sister, who was killed at Thanos’ hand.

  
  
  
  


_ “You will always be my sister.” _

 

* * *

 

Standing there, in the desolate planet of Titan, a aching gap in her chest, a profound pain she’d never experienced before dragging her down to the floor, Nebula broke.

 

Physical pain was an experience she was no stranger to. Emotional? It put the time she was thrown off the cliff of Dervani and all the times Thanos spent  _ repairing  _ her and every single time she was bested by Gamora in combat to shame.

 

She’d vowed to hunt Thanos like a dog… “ _ tear him apart slowly, piece by piece, until he knows some semblance of the profound and unceasing pain I know every single day,”  _ her own venomous words echoed in her ears.

 

But she failed, she couldn’t kill him. She hadn’t been quick enough. She hadn’t been quiet enough. She hadn’t been good enough. She’d  _ never  _ been good enough.

 

It was on her shoulders that Gamora was dead and half the universe was wiped out. It had to be a sick joke that she was one of those still left standing, and Mantis, Drax, even Quill, that man in the red cape, and a child were all gone. There was a loud ringing in her ears and her eyes burned; but she couldn’t cry, Thanos had made sure of that. Nebula watched, detached, as the man who’d cradled the boy as he had crumbled from the inside out broke down, trembling hand pressed to his mouth, eyes glinting with unshed tears.

 

It was then that Nebula finally gave in to the crushing waves of rage and hatred and guilt and  _ grief,  _ knees collapsing under her own weight. They stung, cracking, as she landed on the rocky terrain. She squeezed her eyes shut, hands uselessly gripping at the loose rock and ash beneath her, and she let out a guttural scream.

 

Her chest heaved, her body burned. Flashes of memories, painted as vividly and real as the very planet in front of her, flashed in her head. The good, the bad, every victory, every loss, every fight with Gamora, every hug —  _ two. only two. —,  _ every rare moment as children when they didn’t have the weight of Thanos and the possibility of never seeing another day hanging over their heads. The people whose blood caked her hands, the people who didn’t.

 

Time stood still. The universe had fallen silent. All that was left were two people, broken beyond repair, mourning in their losses and dreading to see the remains. Two people who lost everything.

 

They failed.

  
  


The man — Stark, she vaguely remembered —moved like a corpse. His eyes were lightless, his movements staggered and sluggish. His face was ashy — her stomach churned at the familiar gray color — and his throat must have been dry because his words sounded hoarse. He mumbled, speaking as if he was a thousand miles away, “We need to go.” 

 

She nodded. Neither made a move to stand.

 

Finally, finally, they staggered to their feet. He stumbled forward, gripping his injured side, barely catching himself from pitching forward back onto the floor. Ash and dirt coated his hands and under his fingernails. As did hers, ash and the orange dust of Titan stuck in the metal grooves and creases of her hands. Nebula reached out, body tense, as she helped him towards the Guardians’ ship. She felt like gagging when they stepped aboard, the familiar sights and scent assaulting her senses.

 

The two made for the cockpit, Nebula depositing Stark in one of the seats before making to find some bandages or medicine. She found a pill bottle labeled  _ For Quill  _ in scrawled handwriting and a roll of bandages. She also found one of Gamora’s daggers lying on a table as she made her way back to the injured man.

 

Nebula swept it off of the table before hurrying back. She threw the half full bottle and roll of dusty bandages at him, body creaking as she collapsed into the pilot’s seat. Stark blinked, distant, a few times before focusing long enough to dry swallow three pills — were terrans supposed to take that much? — and shakily wrap his wound.

 

“We need to get to Earth,” he rasped. Nebula pulled herself towards the console, body sore and energy rapidly depleting, and began to type in a set of coordinates. 

 

“We have a stop to make first,” her words sounded hollow in her own ears. She flipped the switch, the ship sputtering to life, and they took off.

 

The knot in her stomach loosened the farther away they got from Titan. The burning of her eyes did not.

 

* * *

 

“Where are we?”

 

Nebula turned towards Stark, his body sunk with exhaustion into the seat. He blinked harshly, eyes almost dry enough for her to believe he was just blinking sleep away.

 

Almost.

 

“Vormir,” her words were clipped. Nebula moved on autopilot, landing the ship and powering it down before standing and moving towards the back of the ship. She heard Stark unclip his belt, straining to stand and follow her.

 

She ignored him, moving to where the Guardians’ arsonal was. Weapons hung from the wall and sprawled across the tabletop: guns, daggers, swords. Grenades rolled across the floor. Figures it was a mess.

 

“I’m,” he grunted from behind her, leaning heavily against the table. His hand was pressed lightly against his side. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “In your condition? You’ll only slow me down. I’ll be fine. Set the coordinates for Terra and try not to die of your wound.”

 

Before he could protest any more, Nebula hit the button and slipped out of the ship before the door finished opening all the way.

 

It took longer to climb the mountain than originally anticipated, but eventually Nebula reached the top. She crossed the rocky archway, breathing hitching and picking up as she grew closer to the cliffside. Her eyes darted around, the illogical paranoia of Thanos appearing out of nowhere following her like her shadow. He won. He wouldn’t be here.

 

He wouldn’t bare witness to what he had done to his favorite daughter.

 

Nebula felt sick, a metallic taste in her mouth. There was an excess of saliva in her mouth she had to keep swallowing down. Her head swarmed, fingernails digging into her palms as she reached the edge of the cliff. Her quick breaths rang in her ears.  _ She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t— _

 

She forced herself to look down.

 

Gamora’s unmoving body greeted her, the once vibrant green of her skin paling to a weak shade. Dark green liquid —  _ blood,  _ her mind supplied — was pooled out around her head and upper torso.

 

Nebula jerked backwards from the cliffside, slamming onto the ground. Her movements were quick, instinctual, as she turned over onto her hands and knees and the contents of her stomach came up her throat and splashed across the rock.

 

Her eyes itched and burned, a scream rising in her throat. Red tinted her vision, the burning sensation of her grief passing throughout her body. Her head pounded viciously. Gamora’s still body was painted across her mind. Suddenly she couldn’t remember what her sister looked like  _ before _ , when she was—

 

All she saw was her lifeless corpse. All she felt was a rejuvenated desire for vengeance and the phantom hands of her sister’s tentative arms wrapped around her, the warm grip of Gamora’s hand against her cheek, the brutal punches and kicks.

 

She crawled over to the cliffside once she couldn’t cough up anything more. Her fingers gripped tightly against the rocks and for one desperate moment, Nebula just wanted to give up. The urge to toss herself off the cliff and reunite with her sister was strong, a temptation which wiggled through the crevasses where metal met flesh, through her coding and wires and other internal defenses.

 

This could all be over. The pain, the torture, the cruel world which beat her up and spit her out could be far behind her. She would be with her sister and she would be  _ happy _ . Thanos would be nothing but a bad memory.

 

But it only lasted a moment. 

 

Nebula snarled, slamming her hand against her head, shaking off the thought.  _ No. _

 

She needed vengeance. She needed to kill Thanos, once and for all. For all the little girls out in the world. The Gamora’s and the Nebula’s who were affected by The Dark Lord.

 

“I’ll come back for you, sister,” she vowed, standing over the cliffside, looking down at her still sister, lying hundreds of feet below her.

  
  
  


By the time she got back to the ship, Stark was stumbling for the door. He eyed her warily, asking what took her. Nebula simply guided him back to the cockpit, not saying a word.

 

It wasn’t until they were an hour out from Terra that their silence was broken.

 

“I will be the one to kill Thanos,” Nebula announced. She spared Stark a side eye, squaring her jaw and tightening her grip on the controls as she waited for him to challenge her.

 

Instead, he nodded; “Only if I’m allowed to help you take the psychopathic Barney down.”

 

It seemed like a fair deal to her.

 

* * *

 

Hard panting echoed in her ears. Nebula’s hot breath bounced off of the hard terrain, hitting her back in the face. Her entire body ached, arms digging into the ground, her palms and knees stinging. The loud ringing in her ears faded away, while the loud shouts, blasting guns, and familiarly squeaky voice calling for her flooded back in.

 

_ “—bula! Nebula!” _

 

She growled, throwing herself back up onto her feet. Rocket stood in front of her, gun charging up for another blast. “You good?” He eyed her up and down, looking out for any injuries she’d sustained.

 

“Where is he?” Her rough voice was too low to be heard over the background noise, her gaze blurred and sharpened similar to a camera fading in and out of focus. A metallic tang settled on her tongue. 

 

“Taking care of a  _ little _ problem.”

 

Nebula swung around when a deep voice bellowed out, two large masses of purple and green clashing into each other in the distance, exchanging heavy blows. Hulk yelled out something incomprehensible, slamming into Thanos. The ground shook as the two toppled down. 

 

Two streaks — one of silver and one of red — flew through the air, blasting at Thanos wherever there was an opening. Lightning clashed, the skies overcast with dark shadows. A menacing dark red light consumed the area, a rocky terrain devoid of grass and buildings and trees and civilians. It was a desolate planet, located in a forgotten pocket of the universe. Explosions of color — green, orange, yellow, blue, red — lit up all around them.

 

She could see figures throwing themselves at Thanos. At his army; her siblings. The once younglings who’d grown up, heeding her as a warning. The elder ones who were always steps behind Nebula and Gamora and the Black Order. The children in the background. The children who  _ believed  wholeheartedly  _ in Thanos’ preachings. Small children she couldn’t recognize, even if not for them being in the heat of battle.

 

They were all too far gone.

 

And she only had one to save.

 

Rocket’s voice filtered in and out of her ears like static, his cautions and calls white noise in the background as Nebula let out a yell, metal toed boots digging into the loose rocks and gravel, charging towards her father.

 

She ducked past clashing swords and flipped over laser blasts, a one woman army as she tore her way through the battlefield. Nebula’s gaze was locked singularly on Thanos.

 

Planets streamed across the sky, slamming into Thanos. Every time, he deflected them. She narrowly dodged a piece of what used to be Ois as she charged through the slew of bodies.

 

Nebula bellowed, digging her foot into the ground and throwing herself into the air. Her body rattled as her feet slammed against Thanos’ arm. Her movements were erratic, relying on pure instinct alone, her lithe form dodging his hits and weaving around his broad form. She went for chinks in his armor, uncovered flesh, ducking out of the way when the green being moved to give Thanos another thrashing before she was darting back in again.

 

The two kept him occupied as the flying woman, the Captain — the  _ female _ Captain — charged up, finally yelling at everyone to get out of the way. Nebula was thrown out of the way of the energy blast. Rock and debris dug into her flesh and lodged into the grooves of her cybernetic parts. Her entire body throbbed, white dots flashing through the darkness when she shut her eyes. Her tongue throbbed from accidentally biting down.

 

When she opened her eyes, sore muscles screaming, the entire world blurred together as one streak of color. Groans of pain and heavy panting erupted around her. Nebula stood up on shaky legs. She dragged herself forward, feeling her jaw clicking back into place and parts whirring as they came back together.

 

Thanos was in a crater, eyes half lidded shut. His arms were sprawled at his sides.

 

The Infinity Gauntlet lay mere feet away.

 

She limped forward, breathing harsh and uneven.

 

_ “Nebula.”  _ She ignored Tony’s voice. Rocket’s. The weight of everyone’s stares, anyone left strong enough  _ to  _ stare, imprinted on her back.

 

The entire planet hushed as she placed her fist inside the gauntlet. When she lifted it, it fit comfortably on her arm, as if it had been  _ made  _ for her.

 

Her vision sharpened, the colors brightened. Every little detail from the trickle of blood in the human assassin’s hairline to the burnt piece of the man who controlled the ants’s, Long’s, eyebrow. Power surged through her bloodstream. Her injuries and exhaustion faded into nothing.

 

Images of her besting Gamora in combat, Ronan bowing at her feet, her siblings watching her with a mix of awe and fear — an example to  _ yearn to follow  _ — rather than sneers and whispers filled her mind. Of every time someone laid at her feet, begging her to show mercy before being silenced by her blaster or batons.

 

Every memory and fantasy she’d ever had where  _ she  _ was the unstoppable one. The all powerful one. All a possibility for her now.

 

_ “Well?”  _ Thanos coughed weakly, breaking her out of her own head. “You have the Gauntlet, daughter. We are all at your mercy.”

 

Nebula twisted her head, silently facing him. The two locked eyes. His eyes, his black and beady eyes, shown with resignation and contempt. He’d lost everything.  _ He  _ was the failure. He was at the mercy of his greatest creation. And his biggest failure. The daughter who never stacked up. Who was never good enough. The child he orphaned and took in, breaking her down, tearing her apart, removing her brain and her heart and her body. He turned a once innocent girl and replaced her with a sadistic monster. A machine.

 

There was no satisfaction twisting around her gut. No sadistic glee at the sight of having her father right where she wanted him.

 

Only a wet rage. But not for herself. Not for her endless torture and pain. Not for the universe. The innocent lives lost and the worlds torn apart.

 

“You killed Gamora,” she hissed, slowly stepping towards him. “You took a sister from me.”

 

“She fulfilled her purpose. She willingly jumped from that cliff.”

 

_ “Lies!”  _ Her chest heaved. Her eyes burned. The gauntlet shook. “Gamora would’ve  _ never  _ joined you.”

 

“She would have to save you. Isn’t that why she gave up the location of the Soul Stone?” His tone was patronizing.

 

“She was a fool.”

 

“It was a disappointment she did it out of compassion for a waste of machinery. You have me where you’ve always wanted me. Now what are you going to do? Blind me? Break me slowly?”

 

Tony took a step behind her, his hand outstretched. Rocket inhaled sharply. The universe held its breath, eyes intent on the prisoner and the executioner.

  
  


“I’ve waited my entire life for this moment. To make you pay for ruining me. I wanted to  _ break you _ . I wanted you to feel very ounce of pain you’d subjected me to,  _ every day of my life,”  _ her voice shook, breaking at the end. “I wanted you to  _ beg  _ for me to spare your heinous existence.”

 

“But now?”

 

“Now… _ now, _ you will pay for my sister.”

 

Nebula pointed the Infinity Gauntlet at him. Someone shouted a warning and the Infinity Stones glowed.

 

The universe rocked from the explosion.

 

* * *

 

Nebula inhaled deeply. 

 

The air felt stilted around her. Her already enhanced senses were heightened, hyper vigilant as she slowly walked forward. She was all alone, flecks of blood dried against her flesh and clothing. Her body still sagged with exhaustion from the battle.

 

She’d fallen unconscious after the feat, awaking hours later to the Princess standing over her. Tony and Rocket stood off to the side, watching as she began to come to.

 

At first she hadn’t known where she was. It took both to calm her down and tell her she was aboard one of the fleets they’d built back on Wakanda. Even still, the Princess had given her a wary look, mindful of her distance, as she finished her scans.

 

It was Rocket who informed her what happened.

 

Thanos was dead. She’d killed him.

 

They had pulled the Infinity Gauntlet off of her when she had passed out, Thor had it now, locked up in a safe Tony had built alongside human-Hulk on Terra. Everyone had been arguing what to do with it. Some insisted upon Tony wielding it to reverse Thanos’s effects. Others insisted on Rogers. Then there were those claiming the planet thrower should take it.

 

Thor even volunteered himself in a low voice so unlike him. Everyone had fallen silent as he watched a green streak float by in distant space.

 

Nebula ignored them all, slipping off of the ship she’d been placed on. She was there when Tony built the safe, she was one of the four who knew how to unlock it. Silently, she took the gauntlet before starting up one of their smaller ships and flying off.

 

They would figure out where she was headed soon enough.

 

Vormir has never been a cold planet, just dark, yet Nebula shivered, a chill deep in her bones as she picked her way through the craggily rocks. The Infinity Gauntlet helped make her journey much quicker as she picked her way down the path she’d created.

 

A putrid smell of rotting flesh struck her senses. She blinked rapidly, breaths sharpening as she pulled to a stop next to her sister’s body. Green blood crusted the ground beneath her, soaking her hair and clothing. Gamora looked exactly the same, eyes shut and head lobbed to the side, covered by a curtain of hair. Her limbs were sprawled out around her.

 

Nebula lifted the gauntlet, pointing her hand towards her sister. The Time Stone glowed a bright emerald, reminiscent of her sister’s coloring. The Soul Stone shone a soft orange, the color of those  _ pumpkins  _ Quill used to mention when he would fondly of some Terran holiday Nebula never bothered to tune into his babbling to hear about.

 

She watched as her sister’s body glowed with an orange outline and then a green. The color began to sink back into her as her body lurched, face twisting into an expression of horror and she began to scream. Gamora bolted up into a sitting position, eyes wide.  _ “No!” _

 

The gauntlet hit the ground with a clang. Gamora whipped around, falling into a defensive position, ready to pounce.  _ Thanos.  _ Thanos, he was here. He was—

 

“Nebula?” She gasped out, confused and frightened at the sight of her ragged and bruised sister suddenly standing in front of her. Gamora dropped her arms, chest moving up and down faster as she tried to understand what was going on.

 

_ “Gamora.”  _ The Luphomoid lurched forward, collapsing in her reanimated sister’s arms. Gamora struggled for a moment to hold her in before they were both sinking to the ground. She sunk into the unexpected hug, eyes flickering around as she tried to process.

 

“ _ Thanos _ , Nebula. He’s here, we need to—”

 

“He’s dead, sister.” Nebula’s grip tightened around her.

 

“He’s… what?” She tried to pull out of the hug, to look at her sister and demand an explanation. The last thing she remembered was tears rolling down Thanos’s face as he tossed her off the cliff. But now, now she was here, and  _ Nebula  _ was here, and Thanos was  _ dead. _

 

_ “No.”  _ Gamora stopped pulling away at her sister’s shriek. Her body was trembling against Gamora’s. There was a desperation to Nebula’s yell she couldn’t recall hearing since they were children. “Okay, okay,” she murmured softly, finally pushing aside her hazy memory and her questions for the time being to wrap her younger sister tighter in her grip. She was determined to never let go of her again.


End file.
